


A Bold Solution

by driedraspberry



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedraspberry/pseuds/driedraspberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on a diner meet cute for Earth-2 Iris/Barry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bold Solution

“I—my—M—Miss, I’m sorry.”

Iris snatched up a thick stack of napkins off the nearest table and stuffed them down her shirt, soaking up the—thankfully room temperature—coffee staining her cleavage. And fast seeping into her lace-trimmed bra.

The fumbling boy in front of her continued to stammer apologies. Along with excuses. Something or other about astrophysics. String theory? Eventually he got a little hold over himself and dropped to his knees. Gathering Iris’ things. Her purse. Lipstick. Powder… Condoms?

His back went rigid and his head snapped up, staring at her wide-eyed—adorably wide-eyed. Like he wasn’t sure how to react. If he should acknowledge that, yes, she was a college gal who carried condoms in her purse. Or perhaps if he should ignore it and pretend he’d seen nothing, spare them both the embarrassment.

Unfortunately, his wide-eyed staring had given him away. There was no pretending.

One hand still padding down on the stain soaking through her silk blouse, Iris reached out with her free one, clawing at him to take back her purse. “You’ve done enough. Quite so.”

He blinked at her sharp tone, looking like a deflated pup. And momentarily, Iris regretted it. She even let her frown fade. The next moment, however, the deflated pup got up and to both their horror, realized he was still holding on to the condoms.

“I—uh, you must—here.” Tactlessly, he held out his hand. Palm up. Condoms on full display for anyone who could be watching.

Lucky him, Iris was a well-mannered lady. Else he’d be receiving a stinging slap—Iris’ palm itched to deliver it.

Instead, she grabbed at his wrist—earning a satisfactory “ouch”—and shook the condoms free, into the mouth of her purse. Then, using her tight hold, she drew him closer, off balanced.  

Thanks to the boy, she’d now have to take the monorail to the other side of the city for a change of clothes. She couldn’t very well show up to her interview at the newspaper with a stained blouse. But there wasn’t enough time for a trip home and back. If she went, she’d be late for the interview. A real nightmare, she ranted to the boy.

“And all thanks to you.” Her finger jabbed hard at his bony chest.

His flustered face actually managed to flush darker. “I—uh—well, I think—I think I can help.”

“Oh? I think you’ve done enough _helping_.” Iris turned right around, and began her miserable journey home. She’d only just stepped out the diner and into the warm afternoon when she heard him. The boy. He’d caught up to her, reaching for her elbow unceremoniously. Though, oddly she didn’t mind.

“M-Miss, listen. I can help right this folly I’ve gotten you into. P—please, trust me.” His lashes bat quickly, fanning over to cover the green glint of his eyes. He was shy, poor thing. But quite brave to chase off after her. Iris rather appreciated that. Besides, she was intrigued. Could he help?

“Help me how?” Her tones were warmer than they’d been inside the diner.

“My lab. If you’ll come with me, I’ll uh, fix this.” His hand gestured nervously at her blouse. Fingers fanned to cover the extent of the stain, but actually looking like he was meaning to palm her breast.

She arched a brow. “Your lab? Have you got a sonic-scooter tucked away in there? Or are you being sly, luring me there with ulterior motives, Mr…Mr?”

“A—Allen. Barry. Allen Barry. I mean, no. No—no ulterior motives. Believe me, Miss. I—I wouldn’t…”

Iris laughed and stepped forward, slapping her hand on his shoulder. “Shush. I’m only teasing. But yes, alright. Take me to your lab.”

Turns out it wasn’t so much his lab, as the general chemistry lab. But it was late in the afternoon, a Friday at that. And it was an empty lab.

Mr. Allen. Allen Barry. Or just Barry as Iris quickly began to call him. He said he had a habit of spilling things on himself. So frequently, he’d come up with his own quick, fade formula. Applicable across all fabrics, from cotton to silk.

He held up a vial of dark blue liquid and grinned proudly. His head bobbing in excitement. Ever so eager to show off to Iris. “Now, if you’ll give me your blouse, I’ll dip apply the magic formula and, and uh, you’ll be good to go to your interview in no time, Miss West.”

“Iris.” Her fingers tapped down the slew of buttons down her front.

Eyes going wide, for the hundredth time, Barry’s free hand sprang up, gesturing aimlessly. He glanced around in a frenzy, looking. “I’m sure we have some—something, for you. To wear. Would you mind a lab-coat? Or I uh—my blazer. I keep it in the closet somewhere—”

But then, he caught sight of her again. And froze. His throat worked visibly, thickly swallowing, while his lips had gone slack, hanging slightly parted. His eyes were so wide now, Iris feared they would actually pop.  

Just the reaction she’d hoped for.

Initially on their own accord, Iris’ fingers had dug at her buttons. One by one freeing them until she could slip out of the fabric with a simple shrug. And minor tugging for the sleeves.

Now, normally, Iris wasn’t quite this bold. But the boy, Barry, was so gosh darn excitable, teasing him was too easy. (Secretly, Iris was pleased she’d settled for the black lace number that morning.)

Barry didn’t gawk, at least not openly at the uh, ample region. But there were a few sneaks. Still, Iris appreciated the struggled and met it with a daring curl of her lips.   

She held up the silk and tossed it at him. Laughing as he scrambled to catch.

He quickly got started on rubbing in the magic concoction, impressive given how his hands visibly shook. Iris crowded in on him, delighting in his fidgeting away. When she pressed close, tucking her chin over the top of his hunched shoulder, his blue vial hit the floor. Spilling its content everywhere. Under their feet.

Iris laughed and waved off his fresh round of stammering apologies. Drying the bottoms of her heels with a lab cloth she grinned. “No harm done, this time.”

Barry’s head bobbed. His glasses now loosened low on his nose.

Without asking for permission, Iris plucked the frames off him. Wiped them clean with the handkerchief tucked away in the pocket of her skirt. And, carefully, she fit them on him once more, tucking till they fell into their rightful place. And all the while Barry was still—still as a statue.

Iris’ hands slipped over his ears, firmly holding the sides of his face. “Barry, do you have a girl?”

“A—a girl? Uh, no. I haven’t got one.” Barry choked up something resembling a feigned laugh that never quite made it out. “Why, uh, why do you ask?”

Iris grinned. “No reason.”

His stupidly adorable face fell. Once more, a deflated pup.

“Barry, would you like to have a girl like me?”

In a snap, he’d perked. “Y—you? Y—yes. I—I… You’re… But uh, why—why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

Iris waited a beat, enjoying his confusion. Then, “Barry, would you like to take me to lunch? Say, tomorrow? 12-ish? Same diner?”

There, he couldn’t stammer _yes_ quickly enough.

Satisfied, Iris slipped on her now mostly dry blouse. Buttoning up slow and deliberate, she mused over her own boldness. Not uncharacteristic, but… She supposed that date with Bruce was going to be cancelled. Her poor father wasn’t going to be pleased.

Oh well.


End file.
